


1978

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: 70's AU, Blow Jobs, F/M, Groupie!Silver, Nipple appreciation, Oral Sex, Restraints, Rock Star!MIranda, Rock and Roll, Tour life, Vaginal Sex, bisexual!Silver, brief mention of James & Thomas, pansexual!Miranda, poly rock stars, what happens on tour sometimes comes home afterwards (maybe)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 22:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: After a concert Miranda has a visitor backstage.





	1978

Miranda sweeps her fingers through her hair and lets it fall free again. She’s exhilarated from the show tonight, and there’s only a little something lacking, only something to make the night end on the right note. She reaches for the bottle of whiskey on her dressing room table and takes a long swig. They’re staying in this town tonight, which is good because the last thing she wants to do right now is get on that goddamn bus. She doesn't even want to leave this room to drive to the hotel, not right now anyway.

There’s a rapping at the door.

“Yes?”

It’s Max, and Miranda smiles at the sight of her manager. “I know you didn’t want to bother tonight, but there is one out there that I think you would enjoy meeting.”

Miranda sighs but nods. “All right let them in.”  She lets herself drape back into the chair, watching her reflection in the glass as she takes another drink. She enjoys meeting her fans, but it’s late, near the end of a grueling tour. Tomorrow she’ll be refreshed and ready for another show, but tonight she’s tired enough that she wishes she were home in her own bed, nestled between James and Thomas.

There’s a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” Miranda says, setting the bottle down.

As the door opens she looks up to see whoever it is that Max thinks she should meet. Her lips part faintly, the pulse leaping to life within her as she gazes at the young man in front of her.

He’s dreamily attractive, dark curls and charismatic smile, blue blue eyes and just perfect... Miranda sighs at the thought of kissing him. Suddenly the weariness is gone and that’s all she wants. To find out how his lips feel against her own, what his kisses are like.

It’s been a while since she’s kissed anyone. There have been a few groupies and roadies along the way, whenever she’s on tour. But the pure visceral allure of this one is rare and she wants him in a fiercely unbearable way.

“Hi.” He smiles at her almost shyly.

“Evening.” Miranda smiles that smile at him, the smile that Rolling Stone called 'the smile of a languidly subtle huntress' and she can feel him responding, drawing him to her.

She sits back in her chair, gazing at him. “So I take it you enjoyed the show.”

“Are you kidding?” He shakes his head. “You were magnificent. The way you sing, your voice. It’s tremendous. The way you skipped from 'Rough Me Up' to that ballad of 'Smooth It Out'." He shakes his head again. "Just fucking amazing."

The way his words flow out of him is like a river washing over her, refreshing her. It’s so rare that a man’s words can truly stir her. Usually their personality, their own charm, their looks help them out and Miranda can get along without the word connection that she so avidly craves. This man's compliments are nothing special, but the way he speaks them, she can tell he believes them, he's not faking it. His sincerity is intoxicating.

He’s exactly what she needs tonight. She can’t wait to see what his dick is like.

“What’s your name?”

“John.” He offers quietly. “John Silver.”

“John Silver.” Miranda repeats, liking how the words taste on her tongue. “And what do you do, John Silver?”

“Do you mean when I’m not loitering backstage, hoping to meet divine musical geniuses?” He grins at her.

“Yes, whenever you’re not doing that.” She gets up and gesturing at the bar standing on the counter. He nods and she fixes them both a drink.

The only places to sit in her dressing room are the chair and the bed. Previously Miranda has used the bed for naps between shows, but it’s big enough for two. She knows that much. He'll fit nicely on the bed underneath her.

She sits on the edge of the bed and waits, sipping her drink. Silver comes over to her, but instead of joining her on the bed, he sits on the floor in front of her, gazing up at her. Miranda feels her breath catch as she stares into his eyes.

“You have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you.”

“Women tell you that all the time, don’t they?” She’s amused too by his quiet acceptance of the compliment.

Silver nods. “Women. Some men too.”

Oh. She looks at him more closely now. “How do you feel about that?” Testing the waters. She doesn’t bring all her tour paramours home to meet the boys, but every once in a while there’s someone rare enough that she almost considers it. It would be a rare man though to understand her relationships with James and Thomas. 

“I like it.” Silver smiles. “I just thought…I’d put that out there, if it were a problem.”

“No.” Miranda assures him. She takes another sip of whiskey and sets the glass down on the floor. She slips her palm over his cheek, tracing his jaw with her fingertips. “It’s not a problem. I’m glad.”

Relief shines in those blue blue eyes and Miranda leans down to kiss him.

 

 *  *  *

 

She pulls him up onto the bed, and he moves to kneel behind her to kiss her neck, his fingers drifting down her shoulders, soothing her drained body.

Miranda dips her head into the caress of his hands, watching their reflections in the mirror as Silver kisses his way down her neck. His lips are soft, the kisses tantalizing whispers as his thumb glides over her collarbone, and then hovers above the open dip of her shirt. She's not wearing a bra.

“May I?” he kisses the question against her skin.

“Yes.” Miranda exhales as his hand slides down inside her shirt, his thumb now teasing between her breasts before skimming over the full curve, up to her nipple. 

Miranda reaches for his face, kissing him hard as he squeezes her breast. His hands are gentle but firm, she likes how they feel on her body. He cups her breasts, kissing the back of her neck. Her cunt throbs as she feels his dick press against her, already eager for her. She presses backward against him and his hands respond, squeezing her breasts, his mouth tantalizing on her skin.

“I want to fuck you.” Silver kisses the words into her skin, his fingers caressing her breasts. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Very much.” Miranda turns her head to kiss him, gasping a little as his thumbnail strokes her nipple. God yes she wants to fuck him. She could practically come from his hands alone.

She’s up on her feet, reaching down for his shirt, tearing it open to reveal his lithe young chest. Miranda flicks her fingernail over his left nipple and watches his expression. The curve of his mouth tilts just slightly more upward, his eyes darkening. She winds his curls around her fingers, drawing his mouth to hers again as she kisses him. It’s the warmth of him that draws her in. She slides onto his lap and twists his nipple, drinking in his moan as she does. His cock presses against the seam of his jeans, eager and hard.

Silver’s panting when she draws back, hungry for more.

“On your back.” She orders.

Silver obeys, lying back on the bed and she straddles him, running her hands down his chest, enjoying the feel of his body. Christ, he has a good body. Miranda wrote a song once about dreaming of a Greek god. It’s like her song has come to life.

She leans down to kiss his chest, pressing her lips solidly to his skin. Teasing her tongue over his left nipple, she’s just taken a fancy to this one, for now. The other will get its chance soon enough. For now this has her attention. She presses her tongue against the hard nub before setting her teeth to slightly graze it. Silver’s moaning underneath her. She nips it, just enough to see where he’s at and from the way his body surges in response, she knows this is good.

His hand slides back inside her shirt, and she lets him.

“What is it you want to do?” Silver asks. “Tell me.”

“I want to tie your hands and ride your dick.” Miranda says frankly and he grins up at her.

“Well, then why don’t you?”

She finds a belt from one of her outfits and loops it around his wrists, tying it to the headboard. Silver gazes up at her expectantly. She trails a hand down his chest and stops at the top of his jeans. Cupping him with one hand, she undoes the button with her other. She slides his jeans off slowly, enjoying the way he’s impatient, enjoying the sight of his golden thighs. His cock tents the front of his briefs and she rubs her thumb along it, watching his lips part.

Miranda dips two fingers inside his briefs and draws only the head of his cock out, trapping it between his stomach and briefs. Silver moans softly, but he doesn’t pull at the belt or ask to be freed.

Miranda leans down to lick along the seam of his briefs. His cock throbs. There’s a bead of pre-come at the top of it, just waiting for her, so she tastes it.

It tastes like nectar on her tongue. She licks across the thick curve of his dick, until it’s surging against the material, dying for her touch, but Silver’s stayed quiet, waiting for her.

She tugs his briefs down and tosses them on the floor. His dick springs up eager and erect. Miranda runs a hand along his length, raising an eye at him. Silver shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. He doesn’t need to brag, and he knows that, and she likes it. She strokes him, just enjoying playing with his dick. The joy about enjoying both men and women is all the wondrous differences in people’s bodies. Miranda simply enjoys people. All the people out there in the audience when she sings to them, all the people she meets on tour, other musicians and the girls eager and bright-eyed who wait to meet her backstage. Everyone has a unique charm and Miranda wants to discover them all.

She gets a condom from her dressing table and returns to the bed.

Silver watches her as she puts it on him. Miranda watches his eyes as she positions herself, easing down upon him. “Oh fuck.”

His dick is so _big._ What a fucking cliché but she loves it, loves the solid length of it inside her, filling her up. She feels amazing like this. She lets her head fall back, running her hands over her breasts, caressing herself.

Silver makes a noise then, a pleading soft sound of desire. Miranda looks down at him as she cups her breasts, stroking her nipples idly with her thumbs, watching his eyes follow the motions. The desperate need in his eyes sends a rush through her, the heat spiraling out of control until her entire body is on fire and she’s coming too quickly to hold back now. She squeezes tight around his dick, carrying him over the edge with her, watching his chest heave as his body surrenders to her control.

She eases off his cock and falls on her back with a long sigh. “That was well worth it.” She watches him watch the slope of her breasts as they lie there beside each other. After a moment she leans over and unties his hands, tossing the belt to the floor.

“Give me ten minutes and I can go again.” Silver tells her, kissing her shoulder.

Miranda considers. She’s flushed and content right now. She could end it, have a quick shower and a smoke and get back to the hotel but she wants to see what the second time would be like so she nods and gets up to get herself a piece of ice from the ice bucket.

She sucks the ice, watching it melt between her fingers as Silver lies back, completely at ease on her bed. “The belt wasn’t too tight, was it?” She indicates his wrists and he shakes his head.

“It was perfect.”

She believes him.

 

 *  *  *

 

The second time Silver sits on her chair in front of her mirror and reaches for her as she straddles him. Miranda fits another condom to him before easing down on him. It’s a little ridiculous how much her body already accepts his, acknowledges it as familiar and claims it as her own. _Mine_ , her cunt whispers possessively, holding him inside her, _mine mine mine_. And yet she enjoys the fact that she knows nothing about him, where he lives, whether he’s seeing anyone else, does he have any siblings, what does he like to eat for breakfast. All of that is set to the side. She’s willing to just let this exist, here, between them, here and now. If there is more to come, that will be all right too. There’s the beginning of a song whispering inside her skull and she wants to see where the music takes her.

Silver’s hands slide down her back, holding her in place as she rocks on his cock. Her breasts brush his chest and he leans down to kiss them. He takes his time with that, his lips a soft delicious pressure upon her nipples, dipping his tongue over them, teasing circles over her sensitive skin.

Her orgasm comes hot and quick this time, rushing through her like a midnight express. Her nails dig into Silver’s shoulders as she comes, and then he lifts her, carrying her back over to the bed and slips down between her legs, and through the last throes of one orgasm, he kisses her into another.

 

*  *  *

 

“You never answered my question.” She muses. It’s late. The neon sign in the street outside blinks green and blue, green and blue.

“Mmmhm?”  Silver yawns. “Which?”

“About what you do?”

“Oh.” He looks slightly shamefaced for a moment and she’s curious. “I…write music reviews. For a magazine.”

Miranda sits up. “You’re a journalist.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He ducks his head, not quite meeting her gaze now, clearly waiting to be thrown out on his ass. It’s tempting. Who wants to fuck a journalist? They always make shit up. Their reviews are shit. James would be appalled.

Miranda just shakes her head, running a hand through her silky tangled hair. Then she starts laughing. Oh what the hell, what does it matter?

“Are you going to write about this?” She gestures to the bed, the rumpled sheets, their naked bodies.

“Yes, but not for the column.” He moves into a sitting position, “I might write a poem about it, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” Miranda leans in to kiss him. It’s only fair. She’s going to write a song about this and what the hell, maybe she’ll take him home with her at the end of the tour. Who knows? The future is an open road, leading anywhere she wants.


End file.
